


Me and My Sins Go Toe-to-Toe

by Cat_Verona



Series: Stuck in Limbo [1]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, BAMF Melissa McCall, Canon for Season 1-3 of Teen Wolf, Canon for Seasons 1-9 of Supernatural, Crowley and Peter become sassy friends, Demon Dean Winchester, I'm Dr. Frankenstein in this fic, Malia/Stiles never happened and she left after Allison died, Multi, SO, There will be sex, but nobody is stitched up, but this is the first in an already planned series, except, no happy ending, not yet, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:28:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Verona/pseuds/Cat_Verona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone is killing in Beacon Hills. Again. But this time, Deaton decides to call in some help- once he starts reading signs that no one else is noticing. Well, no one is noticing them until some old friends appear and scare the shit out of everyone. Cue a phone call to a long dead friend, one Bobby Singer, that gets transferred to the Winchester brothers. But they have enough problems, with Dean being a demon and all. Sam doesn't even want to take the case, until an odd pair shows up at the Bunker. An odd pair that should be dead.</p><p>Or...</p><p>The one where Stiles is considering hunting after having someone else in his body, Peter and Crowley are sassy bros, Melissa and John are done hiding, Dean isn't quite DEAN anymore, Sam is sooo done, Cas is kicking ass for his hunter/demon,...and...well... Finstock has some secrets.  And, we can't forget, some missed, hated and, possibly, forgotten faces are going to becoming back. And some of them with a vengeance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here goes a Supernatural/Teen Wolf crossover. Supernatural is canon up until the end of season 9, and Teen Wolf is canon until the end season 3a. The only thing different is season 3b is that Malia isn't around, but we're disregarding season 4. I really like Malia's character too, but it doesn't fit into this story.  
> To business: The main pairings for this series are Dean/Cas and Stiles/Derek. There rest of the relationships, some I've named, some I haven't, will be in the story but they won't be a giant focus.   
> Time frame wise: This takes place four months after the end of season 3 of Teen Wolf and 4 months after the end of Supernatural season 9. Its taking place in the middle of June, so all the teens are out of school for the year.   
> Yes, this is the first in a three part series, but you COULD just read this one and be left with an Angst ending. But at the end of the Third part there WILL be a happy ending for everyone left living. I have the whole series plotted out. And the first five chapters of this are already written.  
> So, if you're still reading this then THANK YOU!! And with that, we begin.

**LOCATION:**  Beacon Hills, California-- Beacon Hills Apartment Complex

Chris Argent huffed softly as he laid down the final suitcase in the doorway of his bedroom, to tired to unpack until morning. He stared out at the rest of his apartment with exhaustion and weariness, it was a little after midnight and he had just gotten off of a flight from France to New York, New York to L.A. and then driving another two hours from L.A. to Beacon Hills. He was back, after four months in gorgeous, memory-less France, he had returned to this hell. The only reason he came back was for the kid. Isaac.

The boy in question was behind a closed door in his new room. Allison's old one. Chris sighed out softly, hoping not to draw the attention of the teenage werewolf only twenty feet away. He rubbed his neck, a familiar ache returning to the middle of his chest,  _This is going to kill me._ _  
_

Four months in France, four months of not watching teenagers actively trying to kill themselves, four months away from the shards of his dead family. It was not enough and yet it was far too long, because for four months the wolf-boy withered as an Omega. After his daughter died, Chris had decided that no other child would die if he could help it. He would protect those who could not protect themselves, and that extended to the curly-haired werewolf.

Even though they had planned for two weeks to come back Chris hadn't told anyone that they were. He was going to phone the Sheriff in the morning and ask about a stable job, one that would keep him around the pack, one that could ensure he could keep the pack alive. His daughter would've wanted that. Walking into the kitchen a thought occurred to him and he felt his lips twitch in amusement for the first time in days; he'd bet good money that the moment they had crossed the county line, Isaac had texted McCall about going out to do something. Cracking his knuckles he popped open the refrigerator, intent on making a quick ham and cheese sandwich. The  _empty_ refrigerator. 

"Well,  _shit._ " Chris groaned, disappointedly closing the door "That _would_ be the one thing I forgot to do."

"What'd you forget?" Isaac asked, automatically appearing at Chris' voice. His fast appearances used to scare the hell out of Chris, once causing him to almost shoot his foot while he was cleaning a gun. But, eventually, he became used to Isaac's silent approach and scarf fetish. That also scared him: the boy would wear a scarf when Chris was sweating bullets from the heat.

"Groceries. I completely forgot groceries." Chris answered with a sigh. "You feel like going to the store with me?" The older man turned to the teen, examining him for overt signs of tiredness. Isaac shrugged and parted his lips to respond but was interrupted by a tentative knock at the door. Chris sent a small smirk Isaac's way.

"Scott's here already?" but Isaac shook his head swiftly with his curls subtly bouncing and his brow pinched.

"He never texted back. He'd always text or call first, that's just what Scott does. He knows how things work." at this response, Chris' eyes narrowed to steel blue slits. Holding up a finger to his lips, he slid past Isaac and grabbed a gun from its' concealment from under the counter. Stashing weapons around the apartment, the ones _not_ confiscated by Agent Sean McCall, had been the very first thing he had done once he got in. There were two under the buffet counter, a knife under the couch and a shotgun in the fern by the door. And that was the short list.

Making his way to the door, he stopped to steps away which was just close enough to unlock it but no be within grabbing range. With his gun tucked safely into the waist band of his pants he called out "It's open, who is it?" It wasn't the plan his father would have endorsed but after being in Beacon Hills for so long he knew that if whoever it was wanted to come in, they would come in. Before the door had even opened more than a crack, the person clearly took Chris' question as an invitation, Isaac cried out as if he had been stabbed. "What? ISAAC!" Chris yelled out as he pulled out his gun and aimed.

The door opened completely, Chris' gun aimed at the dead center of their forehead. Chris' gun dropped. Then, Chris dropped, his knees hitting the floor in shock. The figure before him was as naked as she had been the day she was born, all eight pounds and six ounces of her. Chris could only stare as Isaac whispered her name like the pray of a child.

"Allison."

**************************************************************************************************************************************

**LOCATION:**  Beacon Hills, California-- Stilinski Household

"I'll be back in the morning, Stiles! Don't eat anything unhealthy!" Sheriff John Stilinski shouted up the stairs to his son, laughing at his own joke. 

A loud reply of " _HA. HA._ You're hilarious. But, just remember, I'm keeping you healthy. So you can joke all you want, as long as you stay away from anything with high cholesterol... or high sodium... or high sugar." came from upstairs in reply. John rolled his eyes, grabbed his keys and with another goodbye, was out the door to go to his cruiser. But the familiar sight of his Baby ( Stiles inherited his attachment to cars from him) was marred by two figures leaning against it.

"Holy mother of  _God!_ " John cried out, spinning away from the two  _naked_ teenagers "What the _hell_ are you two doing? I'm the Sheriff, you realize that right? This is public indecency!"

The girl, blonde and brown eyed, spoke in a quiet, slightly terrified voice "We're sorry, Sheriff. But...is Stiles home?" John felt his spin stiffen at the mention of his son. His embarrassment vanished immediately and he spun back around to fix the two with his most intimidating stare. 

"What do you want with my son?" he questioned coolly, his gaze never leaving their faces. The boy was the one who answered him, after he wrapped a dark arm protectively around the blonde girl's shoulders.

"Stiles...Stiles is smart. We didn't have anywhere else to go and Erica, well, we, thought that if anyone could figure out what was going on it would be Stiles. If anyone could _help_ us..." looking at the two teenagers in front of him,  John Stilinski finally understood what Stiles had meant by " _they need me, Dad. Trust me on that."_ Because, just looking at these kids, John felt that they needed him too. And there was no way he could say no. Shifting his gaze to the heavens, searching for an answer that still hadn't come, John just barely glimpsed the trail of two stars as they shot across the sky, side by side.

"Just, no fighting? Okay?" John sighed, his heart jumping slightly as the girl smiled for the first time, " No... _overly_ supernatural bull, alright? Mrs. Chrisman next door is dying for something to gossip about, and don't order any pizza. I'm seventy percent sure that the delivery guy swore to poison the food of Stiles ordered during his shift again." John shuddered at the memory of Scott's guilty and Stiles' faux innocent faces as Ben, Mercada's delivery man, screamed obscenities at them through his _tears._ John loved his son, but sometimes...shaking his head, the Sheriff waved the teens past him as he made his way to the drivers side of his car.  _Werewolves, Kanimas, Fox Demons possessing my son, when did this become normal?_ A thought struck him as started pulling out of the driveway. 

"Hey!" he called, rolling down his window, causing both of the kids to stop before the could knock on the door "What are your names?" A slight exchange of glances, something he and his wife had used to do, and the girl answered him firmly, while the boy flashed him a set of golden eyes.

"Erica. And Boyd."

************************************************************************************************************************************************

**LOCATION:**  Lebanon, Kansas- The Bunker

"Dean!" an irrate voice shouts, causing the demon to roll his eyes. He's lounging on Dean's bed, a habit he's yet to break, much to his own irritation. The yelling human (Sammy, a small, tired voice murmurs with recognition in his mind) appears in the doorway, his gigantic frame filling the entrance, his soul almost pulsing with his anger. The Knight was rather amused with the whole thing, to tell the truth. "What the  _hell_ was that?"

He rolls his eyes at the obnoxious human "That, what?" Sam flounders for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words in his rage. But, sadly, he finds his ability of speech only a second later.

"You beheaded the witch, Dean.  _With your hands._ " 

Dean raised an eyebrow "I'm failing to see the problem with that."

"You didn't wait for me."

"Still not seeing the problem."

"There were at least thirty witnesses!  _Children,_ at a goddamn  _birthday party!"_  Sam bellowed.

"Well, I think that not being part of a ritual sacrifice is the best present I could have given little Timmy. He and his friends got to keep their internal organs, didn't they?"

Sam's mouth popped open at the nonchalant tone, the small amount of his fury that had given way to shock at his brother's boredom came back twice as hot "You seriously see no problem with all the shit you're doing? Like, none?  _What the fuck is your problem, Dean?!"_  

"My  _problem_?" the Knight of Hell was no longer sprawled across Dean's mattress, he was standing and smiling hatefully at his "brother". To emphasize the point he was about to make, for the hundredth time to this stupid _meat bag_ , he shifted his eyes from this body's green to his natural, empty and endless black. "I'm a demon, Samuel! My only  _problem_ is you! You need to realize that I might have your brother's memories, and his looks, but I am  _NOT_ Dean Winchester. Your brother is dead. Dead! He's probably off in his own personal heaven, surrounded by everyone else who left you! You're alone Sam, and you don't seem to get that! The only reason I'm even here is because Crowley told me to stay close to you.  _The last Winchester."_

Sam glared, his jaw stiffening with a pop, an expression that the demon recognized because Dean had seen it so many times in life adorning his face " Do not call me  _Samuel._ " 

"You've got to be kidding me!" the Knight exclaimed with an incredulous laugh "That's all you got out of that? I swear, if Crowley hadn't-" his threat was cut off as the phone in Sam's pocket rang loudly and the human answered it, never taking his eyes from his brother's face and the demon eyes that ruined it.

"Who's this?" Sam asked, keeping his voice carefully level. The demon snorted and pushed past the hunter, roaming to a chair in their kitchen. Sam followed at a sedate pace as a man's voice answered him.

"This is Dr. Alan Deaton. I'm an old friend of Bobby Singer's. I was hoping to speak to him, but I was just informed that he died. Several years ago, in fact." Sam winced mentally, a picture of Bobby smiling in a hospital bed, a bandage around his head as he whispered " _Idjits"_ at them for them for the very last time. It wasn't a fun memory. But it was over three years ago, he'd moved on, as much as he was able to anyway.

"Yeah. I'm sorry you didn't know. We thought everyone who... _cared_ knew." the voice chuckled at Sam's halted apology.

"It's fine, I hadn't spoken to him in at least fifteen years. Though, I am curious as to how someone finally managed to take him down. Never met a tougher hunter than Bobby Singer."

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair and watching Dean-the Demon-whoever clean under his nails with a pocket knife, "Gunshot to the head. Couldn't beat that one."

"No, I suppose you'd be hard pressed to." A moment of silence prevailed across the line, making Sam more than a little uncomfortable.

"So...did you want something, Dr. Deaton?"

"Oh, yes. Just lost in my thoughts for a moment. I was calling to recruit some help. But seeing as Bobby isn't available, I called for the Winchesters. Would you be a Winchester?" Sam considered saying no, letting another hunter deal with it, it had been a long week and the situation with Dean was getting progressively worse. But, another case might take his mind off the fact his brother wasn't his brother and Cas wasn't answering any of his calls.

"Yeah, Sam Winchester. What's going on?" a relieved sigh filtered over the speaker. The demon, having heard the entire conversation, mouthed  _put it on speaker._ Sam rolled his eye but did so "You're on speaker, Doctor. My, brother, Dean, is here too." Sam studiously ignored the snort at the word "brother" that came from across the table as he sat down. _  
_

"Well, it's a bit difficult to explain over the phone. It more something to see. Though, if my findings are correct, your proof should be coming soon enough. That's another reason I decided calling Bobby would be appropriate. Because, apparently, you boys are involved somehow."

Sam felt a jerk in his stomach as the demon smiled at the phone, visions of a shifter split in half and a witch beheaded over a birthday cake dancing in his mind. Dean, the demon version, was eager for more violence and Sam wasn't happy with that.

"How are we involved?" Sam asked, cutting across whatever Dean was about to say. The demon sent him a withering glare as the man answered.

"I'm honestly not sure, just that all the signs point to you being involved. I wish I could explain more except I can't, not really. But I would appreciate it if you boys would head on out. And not shoot anything until I tell you a few more things in person." This earned suspicious expressions from both hunter and demon "I know that sounds foreboding, quite a few people I know say that I do that a lot. But, we really could use your help."

Sam stared at the table for a moment, it was his decision which cases they took now. Dean was watching him with a blank expression, not saying a word. He wasn't sure what was going on there, that he was asked to _not_ shoot but it sounded like they could use some help. Whoever _they_ were. "Alright. Where are you? And how many hunters are there already?"

"We're in Beacon Hills, California. And, as for hunters, only one so far. He just back into town. You boys would make three. I've already looked up the time it would take to get from your home to here- about 23 hours or so. But likely, a little over a day for you boys."

"How do you know where we are?" It's his brother's voice that asks what Sam was about to.

"Hello, Dean. Good to hear from you, I was beginning to worry that you weren't actually there."

"Yeah. I'm here. Trust me on that, Doc."

"Hmm. Well, just trust me when I say that I know a lot of things. And I don't normally tell  _how._ Quite a few people I know also say I do that quite often, too. So, will we be expecting you boys?" Sam sighs at the cryptic answer. 

"We'll be there. Give us about a day and a half. We just came off a job. But, yeah, we'll be there."

"Good. When you get here, come to Beacon Hill's Animal Clinic. I'll be there. Thank you, Sam. Dean."

"Sure thing, Doc." Sam replied, ending the call. Almost immediately after there was a flutter of wings and Dean shouting out in surprise. Sam jumped up and pulled out his gun, only to see it aimed in the middle of a very familiar and annoying face.

"Looks like the info from the mother ship should be updated, Dean Winchester lives. Baby Brother Cas is going to be over the moon about this." Gabriel says with a wide grin to the angel standing next to him, effortlessly waving his hand and turning Sam's weapon into an orange, squirt gun. Sam spluttered in confusion, staring at the angel in front of him in shock. He was  _dead_ , wasn't he?

"Heaven is not wrong, brother. Dean is dead. _That_ is a demon." Gadreel says coldly before turning his eyes onto Sam, ignoring how Gabriel stares at Dean with actual shock on his normally amused face "Hello, Sam. I don't think I ever apologized for taking control of your body. I apologize now."

Sam's eyes widen, slowly moving from angel to angel, Dean muttering obscenities under his breath behind him. He thought both angels were dead, but then it clicks. Something Deaton said. " _...your proof should be coming soon enough..._ "

"Son of a bitch."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments by the way, especially ones that point out grammar/spelling mistakes. I'm my own beta, unless my friend gets time to read and review this but we're both going to college orientation on Tuesday so she's going to be busy because she never prepares. Hope you liked it!!


	2. If You're Coming Around...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two!!!  
> Oh my gosh, Season five of Teen Wolf has been confirmed and I am now terrified for Supernatural season 10, both I know thanks to Comic-Con.  
> Anyway, this chapter goes from perspective to perspective. The words in bold are which people are going to be in that section. Dean and Sam are travelling to Beacon Hills, while the pack is just barely scraping the surface of the what-in-the-hell-is-going-?!?!? situation. 
> 
> (WARNING: swearing-that is all)

**SAM &"Dean"**

"Can we at least turn on some music?"

"No."

"Sam. We just started driving. It's the middle of the goddamn night. Music."

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

"Sam..you didn't even pick anything."

"Silence is what I'm picking. So shut up and enjoy it. Jerk."

"I'm not the one who's being a jerk."

"...Never mind." 

************************************************

**STILES &"COMPANY"**

Stiles was online, surfing the internet. And, no, not for porn, thank you very much. He was looking into everything he could find about Nemetons. Covertly, of course. Blinds down, curtains drawn, with a line of mountain ash outside the window to keep out nosy Alphas. Scott had not so much  _ordered,_ but suggested that Stiles take a break and breath.  _Nothing is going on, Stiles. Can't we have it easy for once, Stiles? Just stop freaking out that everything is trying to kill us and have fun, we're gonna be seniors soon, Stiles!_ Stiles loves Scott, he does, it's just Scott is an idiot. He's a great dude, he'll make a good Alpha (better than Peter, or even Derek. Though, Derek didn't have the bar set very high. He just growled at every one and glowered with his manly eyebrows growing bigger every day. But, that's mean. Then again, Derek never says thank you. So mean is okay when it comes to Sourwolf, most of the time.), and he's a great bro (when not distracted by a girl), but he's an idiot when it comes to self preservation. So, that job falls to Stiles.

He's been on the computer so long that he almost doesn't hear his cell ringing. He grabs it after the forth ring, cutting of the shrill screech he had set "Hey, Deaton. Someone dead?" He only means it as a joke.

"Not yet, Stiles." He should probably stop making jokes. But, now he was on high alert. 

"Wait, what?" his mouth gapes open as he listens to Deaton talk.

"I've been noticing some...things. I've called in help, who'll be here morning after next. Or around then. I'd like you to be there when they arrive. I'll be there too, of course, but back up might be of use. They can be a bit...volatile, and you can talk people into a stupor when you want to." 

Taking that last comment as a compliment, Stiles asks "Okay, but why me? Why not Scott? He's the Alpha." Deaton chuckles softly, making Stiles think that he was hiding something-like he normally was.

"Scott, wouldn't be welcomed. Not at first. I'm just asking you to trust me. Alright, Stiles?"

"Fine. I'll be there."

Stiles can almost feel Deaton's relief as he thanks him "Be there at midnight tomorrow, we can't chance them showing up early and no one being there."

"Fine, see you then, Doc." Stiles replies, sitting his phone back down as Deaton ends the call. Grimly, he cheers that he was right. Something  _was_ trying to kill them. He knew it. Scott owes him twenty bucks. Cracking his knuckles he turns back to the screen and to his research. Just as he's reading about one Samuel Colt on a fan page, unreliable for the most part but intriguing, a tentative knock comes at his door. He doesn't even glance up as he calls "You left the Ramirez file on the counter down stairs, and NO, I did not read it...but if I did, then I'd say that Deputy Marcus is an idiot and to send Parrish back to the scene. He can at least take a statement without using indecipherable doctor handwriting." When his dad doesn't respond but his door opens, Stiles turns around to be faced with two people who cause him to  _not_  scream in shock and fall off his chair. Picking him self off the ground (which he will deny, even with Peter's teeth at his throat) he stares with helpless confusion and a rather large portion of suspicion. He had a fox demon in his head, he _still_ doesn't believe half of the stuff he sees, even now.

"Boyd? Erica?" Stiles asks slowly, examining them warily as they enter the room. "What..." his original question dies on his lips "What the hell are you wearing? Are those the living room curtains?" The two people in front of him are dressed in floral fabric that his mother had chosen, neither him or his dad could bring themselves to buy new ones, even though the old ones were starting to fray. But, it looked like they were going to have to now. 'Erica' spoke to him softly, with the air of approaching a cornered animal.

"Hey, Batman. We, we're sorry about this. But, we didn't, we weren't sure, we hoped," her voice is shaking and, Stiles realizes with a dawning horror, she was starting to cry. But Boyd, and Stiles desperately wants to believe it's Boyd, that the teen hadn't been skewered by Derek's claws and died on the floor of the loft, curves an arm around the blonde and starts talking instead. 

"We thought you could help, Stiles. We don't know what's going on. We woke up in the preserve, naked and freezing cold like we'd been bathing in ice." Boyd explains as he rubs Erica's shoulder with his thumb. She was staring at Stiles with such needy eyes, like he would know what in the hell was going on. "We just started walking, then Erica picked up a scent-- yours. We started following that until we got here. Your dad said we could come in, sort of. As long as we didn't order pizza." Stiles stands there stunned until, somehow, he's moving and then he's hugging Erica with a tight hand on Boyd's arm.

"We'll think about the 'how' in a minute, okay?" Stiles mumbles into Erica's thick hair, looking up at Boyd who's giving Stiles one of the smallest but warmest smiles he's ever seen. Somehow, they were alive. And, as happy as Stiles is, he knows something is going on and it probably won't end well because they are never  _just_ lucky in Beacon Hills.

*******************************************************************************************************************************

**SAM &"DEAN"**

"Do you want anything, sweetie?" the older waitress asks, flashing a still white smile. 

"Nah. I'm good, thanks." Dean answers, never glancing away from the Impala outside. Sam's reading the paper he'd snagged when they'd walked in to the diner, but he can't help feeling lost when his brother still doesn't order anything.

"Alright. I'll be back in a minute with your coffee and burger, handsome."

Sam looks up and smiles with a quick thanks. As she leaves he turns back to Dean, looking at him curiously. " You really don't need to eat? Ever?"

Dean, still staring at the Impala, answers in a monotone "No. I could, but it has no taste or value to me." Sam glances over at the peach cobbler on the back counter that looks amazing, asking a silent question. Dean sighs, locking eyes with Sam "No, Sam. Not even pie." Sam deflates faintly as the waitress finally walks back with his coffee and a cheery smile.

"Right." he says quietly as his brother's gaze turns back to the car waiting in the parking lot. "No one is going to steal her, Dean." he adds a few minutes later, following his line of sight.

"Not what I was thinking, but I know that." Sam raises his eyebrows, his burger is laid in front of him so he dug in instead of asking what he _had_  been thinking. The burger was so good Sam actually felt bad that it wouldn't taste like anything to Dean, it was one of the best he'd had. Even better than the ones from the little restaurant in upstate New York, the ones that Dad had loved.

About halfway through the meal Dean murmurs "I was just thinking about it. Couldn't we get a new car? This one's kind of worn down. Depressing." Sam put down his food, swallows the rest that's in his mouth, the rest that now tasted like ash, and grabs some money out of his wallet to pay.

"Let's go. We can be there by two if we keep going."

"It's only noon now, don't you plan on getting dinner?"

"No. Let's just go."

********************************************************************************************************************************

**THE PACK**

The McCall living room is dead silent, which was unusual because it's occupied with eight teenagers. But no one seems keen on breaking the silence, not even Stiles. He's sitting on the overly filled love-seat, between Boyd and Isaac with Erica sitting on Boyd's laps. Allison is standing awkwardly next to Lydia, who's perched on the arm of the couch where Scott and Kira are sitting. There's an awkward, parent-approved amount of space between the newly minted couple, probably due to the fact that Scott's first love has just risen from the grave. Boyd, Erica and Allison had all just told the pack what had happened: they all had woken up at their grave site, no idea what the hell was going on, each was completely naked and then they all started walking. Boyd and Erica found Stiles' sent and followed it, while Allison made her way back to the last home she knew. All of their memories were in tact, including their deaths, but there was nothing beyond that. No heaven, no hell, no nothing. It was like they just went to sleep.

"As awkward as this is," Lydia's voice jolts everyone in the room "we should probably be telling all the adults about this. And by adults I mean Deaton, Derek and, I cannot  _believe_ I'm saying this but, Peter, too." 

"Lydia's right." Scott says quietly "No one saw anything like this coming. No one saw anything coming." Stiles makes a little sound of anger, staring hard at his best friend. "What, Stiles?"

Stiles laughs a little, a dark look that he'd gotten during his possession glinting in his eyes " _I_ saw it coming. Not  _this_ per-see, but I knew something was coming!" Lydia smirks faintly from her seat, exchanging a glance with Allison, thinking that Stiles was going to go off a little and go back to being the Stiles they all knew." I was getting prepared, _researching_ , but all you want to do is relax, Scott. _Relax_? That's not gonna help us when freakin' fairies or another pack come tearing through here! If all of you have forgotten, excluding Erica and Boyd because they were  _dead_ , I was possessed and Allison and Aiden died! All because our town is a freaking beacon for every single thing that goes bump in the fucking night!" No one was looking at him, even Lydia's calm and confident air was gone, as Stiles got to his feet and advanced toward his Alpha. "The only other person who's still working to keep us safe is Deaton! And with just me and him for protection? We'll  _all_ die. No exceptions! No coming back!...Not twice, anyway. We're not acting like a pack, not like you said we would, Scott. I see you guys, maybe, once a week. None of us are working together, and that's bitten us in the ass before. Not communicating, Derek taught us _that_ lesson, didn't he. I don't know about you guys but I'm not willing to die because everyone was too stupid to even look around at the signs."

"Stiles," Scott says, hesitantly meeting his best friend's gaze again "What signs?"

Stiles pauses. Deaton said that Scott wouldn't be welcomed. Not at first. But, Stiles has the feeling that Scott would never be welcomed by whoever Deaton had called for help. None of the pack would. There's a knot in his stomach, that their backup is more on the _Argent_ side of the supernatural spectrum. He wanted to keep them out of it, they all jumped without looking, but he didn't think he'd be able to. Not really. Not when he knows Scott. And  _Lydia._ "Deaton might have called to mention something."s

"What?" everyone present automatically asks, looking startled. Stiles groans, sinking back into his spot between Boyd and Isaac. He shouldn't, he should just make something up, he should trust Deaton...yeah, not happening.

"So, we're getting company soon."

*************************************************************************************************************************************

  **SAM &"DEAN"**

"Beacon Hills Animal Clinic, huh? What're you boys going there for?" the man asks Sam, who thought that just puling over to ask for directions would be easiest. He was wrong, of course.

"Old friend works there. Dr. Alan Deaton. You know him, officer?" Sam replies easily, the police officer uniform not restricting his lies at all. Lying was just part of the life he had, it was just playing a role.

The older man regarded him for a moment, a wrinkle of unease displaying between his brows "Yeah, I know Alan. You sure you're friends of his?"

"Yes, sir." Dean replies shortly, radiating a cold anger that threw off most of humans they came across. But this man wasn't buckling, he just regarded them with a heavy sigh and a nod that clearly said ' _So be it, then.'_

"Follow me. I'll take you there myself, shift just ended. I got nothing better to do, my son will probably just be waiting to berate me for eating some fries today anyway. Though, how he finds out..." the man trails off before quickly shaking the thought off "Anyway, I'll take you there."

Sam feels a faint panic in his chest, this is not what he needs. "No, it's alright officer. I'm sure-"

The man raises a hand to cut him off "Don't worry about it. Need to talk to Alan anyway. And, it's Sheriff Stilinski. Not officer." He adds this last part with a good natured smile but Sam isn't blind to the fact that the  _Sheriff_ is pointing out his authority at the same time. The cop gets back in his car, gesturing out the window for them to follow him. Dean snorts from the passenger's seat as Sam follows behind him.

"Good job, man. Always fun to get the authorities involved. More-"

"Shut. Up."

************************************************************************************************************************************

**STILES &CREW**

"I asked you to  _not_ tell anyone, Stiles. Not tell your entire pack. There's a rather large difference." Deaton says to him angrily. Stiles sighs loudly, glaring at Scott who's standing sheepishly in the exam room with the rest of the pack milling behind him. Except Peter, who hadn't shown up,  _Thank God._

"In my defense, you never actual said that. And," Stiles is quick to add "I told them not to come. But _Scott_ wouldn't listen. And Kira wasn't letting him go alone, so Lydia decided that if Kira and Scott were going then she was going too. Isaac followed Scott, _of course_ ," Stiles pretends to not hear the whimper that comes from the exam room at that "And Boyd and Erica had nowhere else to go. Derek...well, Derek has some weird type of ESP that allows him to creep on Scott wherever, so he showed up." Deaton eyebrows raise at that, and probably at the deep growl from behind them too. "So, really, you were asking me to contest with seven supernatural creatures who could all kill me." Stiles says this in rapid fire fashion, which would make lesser men breathless unlike Stiles who was far too used to giving quick and long, looping excuses.

"And, Allison?" Deaton asks calmly, gesturing to the only other person standing in the reception area. The girl in question was looking out the glass door for any movement, but she acknowledged Deaton's query with a faint flick of her fingers in the pack's directions.

Stiles, seeing her movement, gives a humorless laugh "I thought she _should_ actually come. Human.  _Hunter._ You know, same as these guys you invited." Deaton doesn't look surprised at Stiles' words, only resigned.

"Yes. Hunters. World renowned, actually. But, they aren't like the Argents, they hunt everything."

"Everything?" comes Scott's startled interjection. Stiles would roll his eyes but he's a little surprised too.

"I thought that hunters specialized in one creature or another." Stiles says, eyes narrowing at Allison. She looks back at him, shrugs and moves a little closer.

Her voice is suspicious as she answers Stiles "I _thought_ they did. But, I was never really told much." The bitterness in her voice makes Stiles wince in sympathy, but there are bigger problems than stupid hunter families at the moment.

Deaton quickly jumps back in "Some do, but very few. Most that hunt take on everything. And that is a _very_ long list." He hesitates, but miracle of miracles, he looks like he's about to continue his explanation until the door opens and a very unwelcome sight walks in.

"Tell them later, Deaton" Peter hums, striding over to stand by a very uncomfortable Allison "Our guests are almost here, with the Sheriff in lead."

"What?" Stiles asks automatically "Why is he coming?"

Peter snorts "They stopped for directions, your dad was the one they asked. And, before _you_ ask, yes. Your father did have fries today. Extra large, too." Peter ignores the incredulous stares he receives at this. Stiles grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like carrots and glutton-free hell week. Peter simply continues with a happy, slightly off smile "And, they're here. One of them is really tall, the other is just tall. Both very attractive , but one has a weird scent, death-like. Anyway, show time." Derek snarls again from the exam room. "Enough, nephew. Don't give away the fact that we're werewolves so quickly, I'm rather attached to my head."

"They'll kill us?" that's Isaac, Stiles rubs the back of his neck and looks at Deaton who has no emotion on his face. Like usual, Stiles think bitterly.

Deaton nods faintly as two sets of car lights pull into the parking lot "Yes, Isaac, they will. Which was why I wanted to explain our _unique_ situation before they met the rest of you. But, they're here now. So just stay quiet and let me do the talking. Stiles, Allison, you two may interject if the need arises. Peter, you're upfront but keep your mouth shut. Do this, and they might help us." He sighs, fingers drumming on the reception counter. Stiles can practically feel the tension building in everyone, except Peter who looks deeply excited. His heart is hammering with a tightly coiled fear, he doesn't exactly  _want_ his pack to die tonight. So, he'll keep quiet, let Deaton do all of the talking.

It's only a few seconds until three men are entering the clinic, but the first is Stiles' dad, who's still in uniform. Stiles does the smart thing.

 

"Did you _honestly_ think I wouldn't find out about the fries? Really?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles, this is really not the time. Really.  
> Next Chapter: More Derek and more angels!!  
> Comments?(imagine Sam and Scott giving you puppy eyes, seriously how can you say no to that?)


	3. Then You Should Know

Sam raises an eyebrow at the kids in front of him, this is definitely not what he was expecting.

"Really, Stiles, now is a good time for this? And, why are you even here kid?" the Sheriff asks, Sam quickly and easily makes the connection that this was the son that the Sheriff had spoken of. He looked to be almost six foot, with brown hair and light brown eyes and a few moles here and there. His red, flannel shirt looked a bit tight on the shoulders, as if he hadn't noticed that he was growing. The kid, Stiles, rolled his eyes at his dad and waved a hand dismissively.

"Not important, it's business. You're the one who shouldn't be here. And, I'm not forgetting about the fries just so you know. Was it Marcie?" Stiles sniffs in disdain. Sam thought his shock must be really obvious on his face, because even Dean looked a little ruffled by the fact that the kid was completely ignoring them. It wasn't that he needed to be in the spotlight, but Sam thought there was trouble here. Important trouble, not cholesterol or whatever.

"Marcie?" the Sheriff asks, looking at his son like he had two heads "No. I can pick my own food, Stiles. The waitress doesn't do it for me."

"She doesn't? I thought that  _you_ thought she was cute?"

The Sheriff looks totally gobsmacked, but before he can say anything a dark skinned man is speaking in a vaguely familiar voice. "I'm sure we can do this later. John. Stiles." his hard look for the boy next to him changes to a cordial smile when he turns to Sam and Dean. "Sam and Dean, I presume?"

"Yeah." Sam says, stepping forward to shake the hand of the man who must be Dr. Deaton. "I'm Sam. This is my brother Dean." Dean just nods, examining everyone he can see. Which includes the people milling in the back room. Sam notices them a second after Dean does. "I thought you said there was only one hunter in town?"

Deaton's face crumbles into a faint wince. "Ah, yes. Things...happened. They often do around here, you see. I'll explain about them in a moment. I thought we could talk shop first." Sam nods, not understanding but willing to wait because they didn't look overly threatening, most of them teenagers. Then again, some things didn't look threatening until they tried to kill you. "Alright, then. This has to do with some murders that have started. It might be a good thing you're here, John, it's a case that belongs to one of your Deputy's I believe." the last part directed at the Sheriff who reluctantly breaks away from a silent conversation he was having with his son through his eyes.

John's brow falls in thought, thumbing through a file Deaton silently hands him "Which one?"

"Ramirez." Stiles answers, a look of realization dawning on his face. Sam makes a mental note to watch him as Deaton confirms it.

"But, that was just one murder." John says in confusion, but before Deaton can respond it's Stiles' who's talking.

"No, it wasn't. Well, maybe here it was. But there have been murders like it spanning the country the past month. The FBI is suspicious but the can't find a pattern so they're leaving it alone for now. I've been following it for the better part of a month."

"Stiles, please don't tell me you've been hacking in Agent McCall's personal files. _Again_." John groans, while the pretty brunette next to Stiles smiles widely but tries to hide it behind her hand.

"Okay." Stiles says slowly "I won't tell you." Someone laughs from the back room, which is followed with a resounding thump and a mutter of protest. "But, the feds are wrong. There _is_ a pattern, if you look for it. Each guy, and they were all guys, was between 28 and 37. They were all over six foot, good looking and each was found after he went hunting but didn't come home."

"Dad went on a hunting trip and he hasn't come back." Sam says automatically, earning him a round of odd looks while Dean just sighs in annoyance. 

"Hunters?" Dean asks. Deaton shakes his head slowly.

"I thought so too at first, but they weren't. Just hunting wildlife. Some were first timers as well. Anyway, the murders started in Kansas. Eight men have been killed so far, each with a letter carved in his chest: W,I,N,C,H,E,S,T. So, you understand why I thought you were involved. And, the... _proof_ that you got showed up here first. Confirming my suspicion that something _more_ was happening than some hunting accidents. " Sam nods in surprise, someone was gunning for them but it didn't seem _overly_ unnatural. Though, they had taken cases with less to go on.

"Why us in particular, there have to be other Winchesters." Sam questions. The girl next to Stiles was reading off a file over the Sheriff's shoulder and replied quietly.

"Sulfur was found on each body. It says here that sulfur is involved with...demonic activity?" Her pretty brown eyes go wide before she glances at Stiles with something that looks a lot like worry to Sam. She looks back at the younger Winchester, eyes shuttered "We haven't heard that one before."

"Had a lot of demonic activity around here?" Dean asks, lips turned into something that resembles his old smile. Sam remembers how many girls used to fall all over each other every time his brother would flash them that face. But the brunette doesn't even look mildly affected.

"A bit." Dean raises an eyebrow but she doesn't elaborate. Sam turns to Deaton, who is still wearing a mild mannered expression.

"What do you think, Deaton? Demons?" Sam asks. The veterinarian sighs softly, shuffling through more papers sitting on the counter next to him. He doesn't pick anything up but he does motion to the Sheriff to hand over the file. Nodding his thanks, Sam flips through the information offered to them. Each picture would be odd on its own, a carved letter spanning the entirety of the victim's chest, but what they were lying on made it worse. "Is that...?"

Deaton nods, silently taking the folder when Dean has the chance to glimpse everything "The symbol for the Men of Letters. That made me think it was you, and not other Winchesters." 

"How do you-" Sam starts but Deaton simply waves him off with a simply murmur of something that sounds like  _An old friend._   Dean is staring into the back room again which catches Deaton's attention.

"Ah. Yes." is all the vet says, glancing over his shoulder with an almost uncomfortable expression on his face.

"So...?" Sam asks "I'm guessing they're you're proof?" Deaton raises an eyebrow.

"No. We're the reason he told you not to shoot." a drawling voice replies. The only person in the room who hasn't talked so far was smirking at Dean now, a knowing look on his face. He was a little older than Dean maybe. He was clean shaven with styled brown hair and shady blue eyes that Sam didn't trust. Stiles groans loudly with a cry of  _goddamnitpeter._  "They have a right to know, Stiles."

"A right to know _what_ , exactly?" Dean says roughly. The man, Peter, Sam guesses, just smirks before he has Sam drawing his gun without a second thought. The man's eyes turn a bright, luminescent,  _unnatural_ blue. His teeth grow longer and sharper.

"Werewolves?" Dean shouts, his own gun trained on the back room where the figures are stirring. Sam thinks that he sees a flash of red eyes but he's more worried about the werewolf who's closest.

Peter slips back into looking human, which hits Sam in the stomach weirdly. He shouldn't be able to change so easily, unless he's a new type that the haven't encountered before.  _God help them_ if that was true. But the man in front of him snorts, fixing greedy eyes on Dean, his nostrils flaring. Smell, Sam realizes with a jolt,  _fuck._ "That's rich coming from you." the werewolf chuckles.

"What are you talking about, Peter?" a tall, broad guy barks, striding from the back room. A quick stream of people follow behind him. Sam counts with a deepening dread,  _highly_ out numbered then.

The werewolf, never taking his eyes from Dean, almost laughs as he answers " _That_ one's a demon."

Then a gun is firing and all hell breaks lose.

**************************************************************************************************************************************

"Sorry, again, Chris!" Sam shouts as he pulls his brother into the parking lot with him. The aging hunter at the door of the clinic isn't smiling when he replies.

"No problem, Sam. The kids will heal. Come back in when you can. Just make sure you're  _both_ able to." the door closes silently as Sam watches before he rounds on his brother.

"What the hell was that, Dean?" Sam snarls, pressing into the smaller man's space. Dean just rolls his eyes as he walks over to Baby and sits on the trunk.

"You sound like a broken record,  _Samuel._ "

"OH MY-no. You know what? This is fucking _ridiculous. You almost killed one of those kids._ " 

"They're werewolves, Deaton is full of shit. There's only one good kind of werewolf. The  _dead_ kind."

"No, Dean! We're lucky that Argent walked in when he did. That he vouched for them. If he'd come a second later and his  _daughter_ was dead,  _again_ I might add, he would have done his best to kill us both. And, I gotta admit Dean, I don't like our chances against all of them."

"I could have taken them." Dean snaps, eyes going darkside. Sam gives out an aborted scream, before laughing in frustration.

"You're right. You're  _not_ my brother, but I still want your opinion because you're fucking here and you're gonna stay here for this."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The case. The people. Anything except the fact that  ** _MY BROTHER IS DEAD AND ALL THE KING OF HELL GOT ME WAS THIS SHIT-ASS REPLACEMENT_ _DEMON!_ " **

"FINE. You want me to get you a goddamn t-shirt? My opinion is this: don't take the case." Dean snaps.

"Why?"

"Why?  _Why?_   Have you seen these kids, man? We have the smart guy-Stiles, the  _Sheriff's_  kid-that's ten percent muscle and ninety percent sarcasm. The alpha, Scott, who's permanently in way over his head. Lydia and Allison, little-miss-glam-and-sass who's a package deal with the dead girl who practiced shooting arrows and throwing knives. Isaac- the kid with an honorary Winchester backstory. That Kira chick is the dream team's personal Jackie Chan with a side of immortal mom. Then, there's Bonnie and Clyde, werewolf-style, when it comes to the little blonde chick who's name I've forgotten and Boyd." Sam opens his mouth to interrupt "No. I'm not done yet. Derek- the crazy-silent type who's entire family burned alive, who seems to communicate via glare, growl and grimaces. And, finally, good old Uncle Fester played by asshole Peter. And that's just their  _pack_. That doesn't even include all the simpering, hand-wringing adults who seem to be involved with this."

Sam looks at the thing leaning against his brother's car, thinking, before he smirks widely "Might as well get started, then." He turns and strides back to the clinic "And you get to stay out here."

"I don't-what the fuck!" Deans yelps when he realizes that he can't stand up. Sam just laughs.

"Demon trap on the trunk, asshole. I'll come get you,  _eventually._ "

Sam slips inside the building while the goddamn  _Knight of Hell_ is trapped on the trunk of an Impala.

" _Sonofabitch."_

*********************************************************************************************************

 **The KNIGHT OF HELL'S**   **POV**

Its been an hour,  _at least. Fucking humans._ He can't just leave me trapped on the back of a shitty car. Why did Dean ever love him, I certainly wouldn't have. Waste of flesh. And this _stupid_ case, gonna get us killed. Bastard. I'll _fucking_ -

"Hello, Dean." a somber voice says to his left. Oh, the  _angel._   _Dean's_ angel. Fun.

"Castiel. What divine being do I owe this  _pleasure_ to." The little fly doesn't respond automatically and I'm not going to look at him.  _Yet._

"You were right, Gadreel. This is not Dean." So that's  _one_ of the obnoxiously bright, pure beings he's with.  _Gadreel._ Gabriel will be the other feathered dick with him then.

"Samsquatch is inside. Let's just go see him with this, Cassie."  _there's_ Gabriel.

"No, wait." I make sure to sound as much like the old Dean as I can "Cas, Castiel. Could you stay for a second? It won't take long." Now I'll look up for just a second, flash him the human eyes that he just  _loves._  

"...Go on, brothers. Tell Sam I'll be a moment...It'll be fine Gabriel." I don't look up until I hear both angels go into the clinic. When I do something  _pops_ in my head, not all together comfortable. Not at all. "What do you need, demon?"

I laugh softly, a laugh that the angel should recognize. It's the one that little Dean used to make in moments of self-hatred. So  _many_ ways to pull this angel along, to make him care. "Do I look like a demon to you, Cas?"

"Yes. It is all darkness. Now, what do you want."

"Cas." I murmur, listening to the angel's vessel. Noting how it responds when I draw out his name just a little to long. A sharp pain goes through my head, but all I do is smile up at the angel, ignoring a little voice that has started muttering in the recesses of my head. It'll go away soon, permanently. "I want you. Or, well, _Dean_  wantedyou."

"...I'm leaving now." the angel says coldly, I laugh loudly as he starts walking away.

"You can't leave me, Castiel! I know you're able to see my vessel the same way any human would. You found out you could after you fell. Do you see this, Angel of the Lord?" Castiel makes the mistake of tuning around to look at me. A hunger is sated when I see his eyes widen at the sight of  _my_ eyes in  _his_ hunter's face. Gorgeous. "How does it feel, Castiel? Knowing that I'm in here now? Knowing that Dean  _isn't_ in heaven?" The angel is immediately next to me again.

"What did you just say?" Castiel says lowly, and I just can't help laughing. His face is priceless, utter helplessness. He clearly doesn't know that you should never reveal weakness to a demon.

"Look through all of heaven. Look at each heaven there is, but you won't find him. Not in Valhala, the Isles of the Blessed, _nowhere_."

"You're lying."

"Why? Because _Dean Winchester was a hero?_ Because your father wouldn't let him go to hell,  _again?_ Or, because you can't imagine that he's out of your reach for good? You can't make hell runs whenever you want, angel. It's not like going to the store for milk. It's a soul." Castiel is a foot away, two, three,  _four_ , but he looks like he's in heaven already, searching for Dean. It's not a happy look, it's lost. 

_NO. CAS, DON'T LISTEN._

"Shut up." I hiss, startled. How did he-

"What?" Castiel asks eyes narrowing "I said nothing." Well, I can work with that.

"No. But you wanted to. Wanted to say so  _many_ things to our dearly departed, boy. Dean couldn't see. But  _I_ can. You wanted him, so very badly. You rebelled for him, fought for him, fell for him,  _died_ for him. But it was not sweet and innocent, was it Castiel? No. You wanted to have him,  _all_ of him. His loyalty, his love,  _his dick._ Oh, I know, Castiel.  _I know._ You just wanted to keep him safe.  **DEAN WINCHESTER IS SAVED!**  Saved my ass. Or, well, his ass, anyway. You just wanted him so you could fuck him like there would be no tomorrow. No today. You imagined every cry of your name ' _Cas. Oh God, please. Fuck! Yes! Oh, Cas I lo-"_

"ENOUGH!" Castiel bellowed "Enough..." his pretty blue eyes were sooo sad. "Burn in hell."

I just laughed as he walked away.

"I wish, angel, I wish!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a lot more angsty than I wanted it to. But I like where it went. Yes, yes I do. So sorry (not really).  
> Anyway, any love?  
> Kudos and comments are welcomed and loved!!


	4. Now You Know the Truth

"What in the hell did I just walk into?" an aggravated Chris Argent growls, striding back into the clinic. His gaze is fixed on Scott, the alpha of alphas. A True Alpha. Who can't help shifting on his feet without making eye contact with the pissed hunter. Stiles, noting his best friend's awkward silence, sighs for what feels like the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours. He can't exactly blame Chris for being angry, though, Stiles would probably be angry too. If it had been his daughter who he saw with a demon's gun to her temple, about to be shot. And die,  _again._  

Allison jumps to Scott's defense without hesitating, saving Stiles from a confrontation with her father "It's not Scott's fault, so don't blame him. Just read the file Deaton made, you'll understand as much as the rest of us." Her jaw was tight in an expression of stubbornness so familiar that Stiles wanted to scream, or cry, or maybe just go to sleep until whatever _this_ was passed. He hadn't let the fact that three of his friends had pulled a Lazareth and come back from the dead, it just wasn't processing. If he was honest with himself, which, let's be real-he hadn't been in a long time, then he would acknowledge the fact that something about this whole thing was sitting wrong. _More_ than usual wrong for the crazy they'd dealt with in the past 21 months. And, frankly, he wasn't sure he could deal with another demon. 

"Allison-" Chris started, taking a small step toward her before stopping when she tensed up immediately. Except for the first hug they'd shared, once she had some clothes on again, they'd been very distant from each other. Allison clearly wanted it that way, but Chris was dying a bit every time she flinched away from him. Every time she flinched away from _every one_. Unlike Boyd and Erica, who had yet to detach themselves from one member of the pack or another, Allison had made it clear that no one was to touch her yet. Not Lydia, or Isaac, or Scott.

"No, dad. I'm fine. You can't lock me in my room just because I died, alright? I'd just find a way out. We have to keep living, find out  _why_ we're living. But, we have to deal with living in Beacon Hills, too. This  _stuff_ isn't going to just  _stop_ because everyone just got  _blindsided._ When has it ever?"

"It's not our job-" 

"Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger." her voice was hard, no room for negotiation "Did you forget that?  _WE_ protect those who cannot protect themselves. Not just Scott, or the Sheriff, or the pack,  _US_. We can't stop doing that, not now. Not when I get a second chance." Chris stared at her before dropping into one of the chairs across from the counter in the front office. She'd won, and Stiles had to admit that he was as surprised as she looked for a moment. Allison was standing behind the front counter, next to a muttering Lydia and Deaton who were going over some translating that he'd done. Scott was in the doorway to the exam room and staring at his ex-girlfriend with nothing short of awe. Stiles, sitting next to Scott's feet, wasn't far behind in appreciation. Everyone else was in the back room with a healed Isaac and Boyd, including a fuming Sheriff who was listening to Melissa McCall berate him over the phone for not telling her immediately of their super secret meeting. Which hadn't stayed so super  _secret_ for long.

The bell tinkled as Sam, the taller, non-demon one, stepped back into the clinic. Deaton was immediately standing up straight again and walking out from behind the counter, ignoring the little huff from Lydia as her complaining about his translating was cut off. "Sam. Where's your..brother." Deaton's pause was short, almost unnoticeable but Stiles noticed. So did Sam.

"Outside. He'll be fine, he won't be going anywhere. He's not too happy about my decision but he'll deal with it." the Winchester says calmly. Deaton looks faintly amused as he glances the parking lot's way.

"Demon trap?" Stiles' mouth hangs open at the casual way Deaton says that, like he's familiar with those. Sam doesn't have Stiles' surprise.

"Yeah. We had one on the underside of the Impala's trunk lid, he must of forgotten about it." he seems pretty amused about his brother's forgetfulness too.

Lydia tips her head to the side " _Why_ do you have a demon trap in your trunk? Bypassing the fact that I have  _no_ idea what a demon trap is, except for the fact that it literally sounds like something to trap demons in." Sam chuckles softly, turning to look at her in amusement. He clearly doesn't see the curiosity in the strawberry blonde's eyes like Stiles and Allison can. Nor does he have the knowledge that Lydia is done with high school boys like Stiles and Allison do.

"A job precaution. Demon transport, so to say. And yeah, that's pretty much what a demon trap does. It traps demons. Like flypaper." Lydia nods along with his words, eyes sweeping over him in interest. Stiles internally groans, having seen that look on her face often after Jackson left for London. Poor, innocent, fucked Sam. He has no clue what he's in for. Stiles catches Allison laughing as she grins at the ground, she clearly knows exactly what her best friend is thinking. "So, Deaton, I'm prepared to help. I want to." 

Deaton gives him his all-zen-smile, no real emotion behind it, "That's a relief. Can you deal with some werewolves being involved,  _without_  harming them?" Sam just nods, giving Scott a quick glance.

"Works for me. Now, could you tell me more about these kids coming back to life?" Sam asks, looking from Deaton to Allison. The vet just gestures to Allison who shrugs in reply.

"It was cold, really cold." Allison says meeting Sam's gaze without flinching as the gigantic hunter sizes her up "I remember someone screaming, a man. It was the first thing I heard. Then, another man was talking to him. I couldn't understand what he was saying, I didn't know the language and, no, I don't even remember the phrases. He was speaking too quickly. But, I did think that I knew his voice, but I can't exactly place it, neither could Boyd or Erica." Sam was nodding, glancing into the back room where all talking had ceased as Allison talked. "Then, the screaming stopped and it got warmer and warmer. I opened my eyes and saw the sky. I looked around and I panicked because I was  _naked._ In the cemetary, in front of _my grave_."

"Nothing else?" Sam asks, sounding puzzled. She rolls her eyes.

"Nothing except for the creepy grocery guy leering at me when I ran home." Sam coughed in embarrassment while Lydia laughed at her friends sarcasm.

"Alright, then. I guess...we should start working on finding out what the hell is going on, right?"

"Sure thing, Paul Bunyan!" Peter yells from the back "We do specialize in helping hapless hunters, after all."

Derek growls angrily "Peter." A soft eruption of snarling and hissing fills the back room, causing the Sheriff to scurry into the reception area. In a very manly way, of course. Sam looks at the angry werewolves that he can see with an uncomfortable look on his face.

"I'm not sure I'm gonna get used to that."

John just huffs a laugh as pats Sam's shoulder, having gone to stand beside him the minute someone snapped " _Put the claws away, Derek."_ in a very slow voice. _  
_

"You and me both, kid." John says quietly "You and me both."

*******************************************************************************************************************************

"So all we can do is WAIT?" John cries in exhaustion almost an hour later. Sam winces before looking at the dismayed man to his left. Everyone was gathered around Deaton's exam table as well as they were able to. Sam was at one end of the table, between the two Stilinski men. Deaton was at the other, between Scott and Lydia. Allison, Chris, Peter and Derek were nearer to Sam's end of the table, even though Sam wasn't comfortable with the arrangement. The rest of the pack, Kira, Isaac, Erica and Boyd, were congregated around their alpha.

"I think so, I mean, we can go back to the crime scene. Check for sulfur and traces of the killer. But all we can really do is wait and try and find a pattern to the kills, but they might not even stay in Beacon Hills. Whoever it is might move on." Sam responds with exhaustion.

Scott just shakes his head "No. It'll end up staying here, whatever the hell is going on. It always does. You do remember us telling you that the town is an actual  _beacon_ now."

"Because of the nemeton. Explain what that is again. I've never run across one before." Sam mutters, flicking through the papers and maps before him. Lydia looks up from the bestiary in her hand only to freeze as two people walk through the doorway.

Stiles yelps as hot breath runs across his neck before one of the new additions to the room steps away "A nemeton is a sacred space of the ancient Celtic religion. Nemeta were primarily situated in natural areas, and, as they often utilized trees, they are often interpreted as sacred groves. But they could have just been an area with a lot of meaning to each particular group. There is a lot of power based in a nemeton: healing, defensive, dark and many others. Whatever a druid, who knew how to use it, could think to use it for." Stiles quickly steps away from the drop dead  _gorgeous_ blond man with a Superman jaw, only to bump into someone significantly shorter than him. But Stiles didn't base power on height, not when Lydia could easily blow out his eardrums in five seconds if she set her mind to it.

"Now, now, Gadreel. Let's not give to kid a heart attack. Are  _all_ you humans so tall?" the shorter man asked Stiles curiously, he had wavy brown hair and bright, mischievous eyes. Well, mischievous might have been to kind, Stiles thinks with a huff as he extracts himself (his _butt_ in particular) from the man's grip. Devious might be a more apt description. "Sorry about that, Freckles. Hands slip, ya know." His smile is wide, happy and Stiles does  _not_ trust it for a second.

"They're not-" Stiles grumbles but is out voiced by  _Gadreel._ What kind of name is that? Though, Stiles can't  _really_ judge.

"Enough, Gabriel. He is human. We aren't supposed to fraternize with them in that way. As Our Father-"

Derek growls from next to Chris and the Sheriff " In  _what_ way? Stiles?" Gabriel laughs.

"He has a nice ass, not as nice as the moose's of course," Sam yelps at that, jumping and blushing and then glaring as a hand smacks his butt, "But nice none the less." Derek growls in response, eliciting a snort from Stiles. "Is he yours, Pongo?" Stiles starts laughing at that, while Derek just gives a disgusted look before denying it with an unhappy growl. "No? Well, then, why are you so territorial?"

"Gabriel. Enough." a curt voice says, catching everyone by surprise.

"Cas!" Sam says, a faint smile lighting up his face. "Where-no, later. I'll ask later. But, Cas, why are you here?"

"Hello, Sam." the new guy, frumpy trench coat and dark bed head with the bluest eyes to ever blue, in Stiles' opinion, greeted. " It is good, to see you again. I'm here because my brothers walk the earth again,  _four_ of them." Sam's eyes widen while everyone else, sans the Three Stooges, looks at each other in confusion.

"People came back here, too. Three of them. But, what do you mean-four of them?" Sam speaks quickly, eyes flitting from Cas to Gadreel to Gabriel and back again. Cas just looks heavenward for a moment before glancing around warily.

"The... _cage_ was opened. The only _thing_ remaining in it is a...mortal inhabitant." Cas says slowly, but Stiles is still trying to piece everything together so he doesn't care about the slow delivery. He's clearly trying to keep them in the dark about something. "When Gabriel and Gadreel returned to us the spoke of screams, and a voice..."

"A voice?" Sam prods. Gabriel is tight lipped and angry looking, while Gadreel  smiles warily at the ceiling. Stiles follows his gaze nervously but he doesn't seen anything except for a water stain.

Gadreel answers softly "It was Our Father."

Allison looks over to Erica and Boyd, speaking with her eyes. She receives a quick flurry of nods before turning to Gadreel "Who's your dad?" Gabriel snorts, but cuts it short in apprehension, casting the same wary look at the ceiling like Gadreel did. Stiles still only sees a water stain.

"Our Father," Cas says slowly " Is your Father as well. It seems as though he has returned. You were pulled out of death," Blue Eyes sends Sam a quick look before continuing. 

"By God."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is just setting up more of the plot to come. Very necessary!! I assure you!! I hope it wasn't slow to you even though I didn't put any real action in it. Just note how people are rearranging their relationships, this is going to be plotty and, hopefully, shocking. But, yes, THERE WILL BE SMUT EVENTUALLY. I'm anxious for that too, don't worry. But I can't make it too soon.  
> Any guesses as to what is going on yet?  
> Leave your comments below!


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